A Storybook Ending
by Alina-Cantha
Summary: A collection of oneshots and drabbles. LARGE UPDATE! NejiTen, onesided SasuSaku.
1. Who They Are

A Storybook Ending

Basically, this will be a dumping ground for one-shots and drabbles. It's been a while, but I'm rather pleased with this one in particular. It may be incorporated with another fan-fic I have in the planning stages. Thank you for reading!

SPOILER ALERT: There will be spoilers in this up until...the latest chapter of the manga, wherever it happens to be. Proceed with caution, unless, of course, you don't care. More specific spoiler notices will be in each chapter/story - it's possible they'll be different.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not Masashi Kishimoto, the creator of this series. Hence, I get nothing out of this besides writing satisfaction and the warm fuzzies from nice reviews.

Who They Are

A Team Kakashi story. Spoilers through - surprise, the Kakashi gaiden. Err... I like Rin. So this was born.

* * *

"I used to love you, you know," she says quietly as she sits across the table from him.

"I know," he answers, not meeting her dark brown eyes.

Idly, she swirls her tepid tea around in its cup, watching it instead of him. "That was fourteen years ago," she finally murmurs. "Is that… that eye still working out for you?"

"It's saved my life more times that I can count," he responds. He reaches a hand up towards his forehead protector to slide it up from his covered eye, but she stops him, resting her long fingers against his wrist.

"Don't. I don't want to see that again."

"I understand."

Was he really that much stronger? Was he that much stronger, that he could stand in front of the mirror every day and watch his best friend's eye spin in it's Sharingan spirals inside his head? That he once was in charge of that crazy raven-haired boy and had watched, doing nothing, as the last of his friend's line ran himself into the ground on a half-assed suicide mission?

No, he wasn't. He wasn't strong enough to admit it – couldn't admit that he wouldn't give up the eye for anything, for the memories that it kept floating on the surface. He couldn't admit that the reason that he hadn't gone with Sakura and Naruto to retrieve Sasuke three years ago was that he couldn't stand the fact that he had failed him. He'd never thought he'd let something like that happen – it was the least he could give him. And it had all fallen down into pieces.

Here's his former team now. Two of them – dead, buried in the ground so long ago that they are not mourned except by those who have a part of them buried within themselves, whether in the heart, the mind, or the eyes. One of them a jounin, a trained killer, an assassin who rarely fails a mission. A man who can be trusted to complete his assignment, even at the cost of his mental health. A man who has a mental image of himself burned into his brain, a raging wild-eyed beast, a swirling smash of silver, red, and black. The final member, a simple woman with brown hair, brown eyes. Nondescript. She's washed her facial paint off, has thrown away the forehead protector – threw it in the trash can the day they got home from the Rock Country fourteen years ago, and then vomited uncontrollably onto it until Kakashi had pulled her away from it, holding her through the dry heaves and the sobbing. This is who they are – the last two remaining – the survivors, if you could call them that.

This is who they are: the dead hero who never got his happy ending, the boy whose life was crushed out of him until nothing remained but a shell and a mangled face, the woman who has left everything behind her and masquerades as a "normal" doctor in a long white lab coat, and the man who every so often still sees the glimpse of something darker inside himself, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.


	2. Baby Girl

Baby Girl 

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does. And a fine job he does of it too._

The baby shifted on his chest, moving a small fist just a tiny bit. Smiling, Inoshi extended a single finger – she clamped onto it, not wanting to let go. He sighed, making the child rise up and down where she rested. Little wisps of blonde hair covered her head already, and when she opened her eyes to look at him, they were the brightest blue he'd ever seen.

The doctors had told him that all babies had blue eyes when they were born and they'd probably change color as she grew. He had just laughed. He'd known that this girl, this little Yamanaka infant, would have the bluest blue eyes and the sweetest smile anyone would ever see.

* * *

Inoshi was proud of her – with good reason, everyone assured him. The top kunoichi in her graduating class, she had only continued up. Personally, he was trying to push her towards ANBU, while others believed she would do the most good in the kunoichi infiltration unit. 

He'd been right – those eyes were still blue, and that smile, no matter how many times he saw it, was just the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. Here she was – eighteen, no longer a child. It was hard to believe – she was so damn tall, almost as tall as he was, and taller than her mother had ever been. Cropped blonde hair and a wicked grin. She really did take after him, it seemed.

The Yamanaka girl had stunned the examiners at her first jounin exam, displaying a surprising determination and viciousness. Inoshi was the only one who really knew why – she had confessed her worries to him one night when he'd found her stumbling through weapons practice the week before the exams.

She hadn't noticed him come into her bedroom, and had actually dropped her katana in surprise when he'd softly cleared his throat from behind her. "You're still awake?" he had asked, bending to pick her weapon up for her.

"Can't sleep," she mumbled back, raking a hand though her short-clipped sweat-soaked blonde hair and then wiping it on her dark purple skirt.

"You can't be doing this," he said resolutely, putting the sword on its rack on the wall and looking at her pointedly.

"It's my last week before the exams. It's my last chance to practice."

"Honey, you'll just tire yourself out. Go to bed."

Her blue eyes met his, and he watched as she closed them tiredly, trying to block out the world. "I don't want to," she admitted, tears slowly starting to leak out from underneath her closed lids. "I don't _want _to," she repeated firmly.

"Ino, all you can do is try your best," he assured her, resting a solid hand on her shoulder. "You're as ready as you're going to be right now."

"I _need _to pass," she answered, wiping her tears away, almost angrily. "I know what this is all about now. This is serious. This isn't a game!"

"I have faith in you. You've trained so hard fo-"

"You're my dad," she sighed. "You're supposed to say things like that."

"We're supposed to say things like that, because we're the ones who really believe things like that."

"That's great, but it won't help me win."

"Why is it so important to you? I took it quite a few times before I finally passed. It's only your second try – you have time!"

"Well, that's a stupid question," she answered caustically, with the sarcasm that only an annoyed teenager can wield. With her hard blue eyes drilling into his, he suddenly realized that it really was. He knew what it was like, that feeling like you were going to be left behind, like you were the slowest, the dumbest, the weakest.

"Ino…"

"Good night." She turned her back on him, effectively ending the conversation. Not caring that she was dirty and sweaty, she climbed into bed, tugged her blankets up over her head and ignored him.

"Good luck, sweetheart," he had murmured, shutting the door softly behind him.

The next day, the exams had begun. To Inoshi's satisfaction, she had passed, surprising everyone with her newly broadened techniques and taijutsu. That was his baby, his blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl.

Funny, that. Most parents didn't dream of having their children grow up and learn how to kill, spy and fight. But she carried on the legacy, the pride and power of Konohagakure. She was part of InoShikaCho, the next generation. She was his daughter, and he was proud.

_Every encouragement is a little bit of love, and another little push out into the world._


	3. Waltz

_Waltz _

_SasuSaku…sort of._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does. And a fine job he does of it too._

She would have given anything to dance with him. Truly, just once. It sounded stupid, she knew. Why would a shinobi want to dance? Who would want to take the time to learn the steps when there were other, more important things to learn, things that could save your life in a battle?

She knew how to dance, all kunoichi did. It was part of their training, along with flower-arranging, proper etiquette, and other womanly arts. They all knew that eventually they'd be out in the world, spying. Many of them were simply not cut out for violence, so they resorted to spy work. Sakura was happy doing that, practicing with the other girls in the class, making fun of Ino when they stepped on each other's feet.

Then she'd been put on a team, with the only boy she'd ever really noticed before. And each moment she spent with him only made her fall in love with him more. There was the time she thought he was dead. The time he hurt himself just to win a battle. The time…

She never thought that if she compared the feelings, it would hurt more when he left than when she'd thought he died. She would almost have preferred his death – at least she would know where he was, buried in the ground.

Once, long ago, she'd tried to convince him to dance with her. To keep up her practice, to make sure she remembered. A weak attempt, but she'd had a hope it might work. He had laughed a little, and muttered something depreciating about kunoichi and their usefulness. Thinking quickly, she'd pointed out how the fighting steps he ran through were much like dances themselves. He had snorted and turned away. She hadn't bothered to follow after him – it wouldn't matter anyways.

Occasionally, she would dance on her own, practicing the formal steps of the dances used in the courts of the nobles these days. The kunoichi teachers checked up on them occasionally, on all of the kunoichi arts. It annoyed her sometimes – the boys never learned flower arrangement, musical skills, or dancing. But later she would regret it, reveling in her quiet moments alone, adjusting the position of a foot in an intricate dance, or bending the stem of a flower just a small amount. It was the details that she loved.

But still, every time she's alone in her room, playing soft music, she can't help but think of him. And the memories come flooding back. And so she dances, soft steps across her bedroom, images of swirling sharingan and his retreating back floating across her mind as she floats across the floor alone.

_Dances weren't meant for a person to perform alone..._


	4. FiftyThree

_Fifty-Three_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does. And a fine job he does of it too._

Dark eyes met dark eyes, staring each other down. With a sudden burst of movement, Gai slammed a card down. "Draw four. Green!" he declared triumphantly.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, appraising the situation. Tapping his hand of cards against his chin, he drew his four. Pausing for a long moment, he finally laid down a single card. "Draw two," he said blandly, looking up at Gai, who had been sitting originally, but had risen to his feet in his excitement.

"A smart move, my rival!" Gai exclaimed, drawing his required cards. "But that won't save you in the end!"

"Gai-sensei!" Lee squealed, a one-man cheerleading squad on the sidelines.

Tenten and Neji exchanged a significant look. Gai-sensei always called this training, but still, neither of them saw the point. Lee, meanwhile, just kept shouting.

The game continued, a heated battle on one side, a calm calculation on the other. Finally, Kakashi slid a red card onto the top of the pile. "Uno," he stated firmly.

Gai frowned deeply, inspecting his cards carefully, bushy eyebrows drawn down in concentration. Lee was hanging over the table, close to biting his fingernails in nervousness. With a grumble, he laid down his series of cards, face breaking into a grin. He couldn't help it.

"Draw four, green! Uno! I win!" he announced, crossing his arms smugly and giving Kakashi a sparkling smile.

"That's against the rules," Kakashi commented, untroubled. "I win by default."

"What!" Gai shouted, throwing his hands toward the sky. "That's perfectly legal!"

Kakashi flicked through the rules pamphlet for a moment. "Ah, so it is," he finally noted, pointing out a single line. "Just kidding."

The other jounin clutched his chest, taking a deep breath. "My triumph is true! Ah hah! Victory number fifty-four!"

"Fifty-three."

Lee grimaced. "I'm afraid he's right, Gai-sensei," he admitted, pulling out a well-marked piece of paper from his shuriken pouch.

"You keep that in there?" Tenten interrupted, looking at her teammate in disbelief.

"Of course! You never know when a rivalry will be contested!" he answered, eyes blazing and fist clenched.

"In retrospect, that was a silly question," Tenten mumbled under her breath. Neji just nodded.

"Ha! That puts our matches at fifty-three to fifty-four! I come closer to besting you once more, my modern rival!" Gai shouted.

"Fifty-what?" Kakashi asked, glancing up from his book.

Lee and Gai both glared at the silver-haired jounin, flames burning in their eyes.

"Ah. Fifty-three."

_Fifty-three to fifty-four. But next time it'll be different!_


	5. Knit One

_Knit One, Purl One_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does. And a fine job he does of it too._

"What do you think he's going to make us do today?" Tenten asked Neji, frowning.

"It can't be worse than yesterday's lecture about sunshine, chlorophyll and smiling," he replied, making sure Lee didn't hear him, not wanting to incite a mini-lecture from the miniature Gai.

Ah, but it could be worse. Although Neji usually sought out the negative, what Gai had planned for was something not even the Byakugan could see coming.

Their teacher burst onto the scene, arms full with bundles of multi-colored yarn. "Today!" he began dramatically, as he always did. "We are going to increase your hand-eye dexterity and coordination!" With that said, he passed out their supplies.

Neji stared, non-plussed at the skein of blazing pink yarn that had just landed in his lap and resisted the urge to stab Gai with one of the knitting needles clenched in his hand. He eventually discarded the idea, as the implement would just bend without doing any actual damage. Tenten had brilliant, but sickly, lavender and was looking at it with approximately the same look Neji had looked at his. She raised an eyebrow, and without a word, they switched colors.

"Never underestimate the power of a bargain," Gai instructed, handing Lee a vomit-green color, which, of course, the boy was ecstatic about. Keeping a dark orange for himself, Gai sat happily down on the floor. "I got this all so inexpensively it would amaze you!" he declared. "And it will help us so much on the road to excellence."

"Knitting?" Neji asked flatly, watching Gai carefully for any signs of sudden movement.

"Yes! A dexterous and befitting task!" Lee answered.

"And it's rather calming as well," Gai added. And with that, they set into their rather unorthodox lessons.

Almost an hour later, they were well on their way. Gai had a large amount of his knitting completed, an ugly orange flag. Lee had caught on almost immediately, thankfully quiet, lulled by the motion of his hands. Tenten had a few tentative rows done, and was stumbling through a fourth. Finally, Neji had a tangle of yarn and a displeased expression.

"You're a natural!" Gai bellowed, holding Lee's puke-green knitting up triumphantly.

"Gai-sensei!" the youth responded, tears streaming down his face.

As the pair launched into their usual ear-splittingly loud screaming, Tenten and Neji exchanged a look, quietly got up, and left. Gai, of course, never noticed.

_Knit one, purl two, and the designs all come together._


	6. I'm Here

_I'm Here_

_NejiTen_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does. And a fine job he does of it too._

It seemed as if all she could hear was the beeping of the monitors, sounding aloud the beat of his heart. The naïve was thankfully constant, a precious sound. He was breathing on his own now, a soft noise, faintly heard, but there if she listened for it.

She had been there when the medical teams had brought the boys back. And that's what they were, no matter how they believed they were grown: boys. She remembered the panicked yells, the shouts for Tsunade and Shizune. She remembered the makeshift bandages over his shoulder, the deep red stains seeping through the wrapping, contrasting sharply with his pale, pale skin.

She remembered the wait while Shizune had performed what seemed like magic – watch, a wave of my wand, and he won't die now. And now here she was, watching over both her boys as they slept. Neji, unable to move at all for the moment, and Lee, on strictly enforced bed rest, with a nurse assigned to supervise him when Gai or Tenten weren't around.

Neji slept quietly, newly shorn hair splayed out on the pillow beneath him. His skin was still paler than usual, making the sickly green hospital gown stand out starkly. An IV dripped slowly into his arm, melding with the rhythm of his heart and breathing, the gentle movement of his chest moving up and down. He was a prince of ice, cold and frigid. His skin, his eyes, his clothing, his attitude – all mirrored what lay deeper. If he knew she was sitting here watching him, he would probably just raise an eyebrow or shrug. It didn't hurt anymore – she was used to it.

Across the room, Lee was in his perpetual state of movement, shifting restlessly. The casts were off, and of course, he saw no more reason to limit himself any longer. He'd already lost too much time. Only a firm lecture from both Gai and Tsunade had calmed him down, and yet a nurse still needed to watch over him. Still, Tenten remembered all too well the blazing eyes, the enthusiasm. The opposite of Neji, Lee was an incarnation of fire – intense and enthusiastic, devouring everything in it's path.

Her team, her boys. She didn't know when that thought had come about, but it made her comfortable. She knew that as she watched over them, they watched over her, and no matter how much they fought, each other. They were fire and ice, and both had the strength to pull through against the impossible odds that life had set against them.

They have fought their battles, and one day, she will probably fight her own. But she knows that when that day comes, her boys will be there to support her, just as she supports them now: gaunt and worried, losing sleep and sanity.

It _has _been a while since she got some sleep. Her brain doesn't usually ramble on like this in a semi-dreaming state. As her eyes drift closed, Neji's drift open.

"Tenten?" he whispers quietly in a voice that hasn't been used for what seems like days.

_"I'm here."_


End file.
